


Imperial Blues

by Galactique



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Drama, Gen, Imperial Officers, Past Abuse, Past Violence, Self-Hatred, Xenophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 17:13:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9832733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galactique/pseuds/Galactique
Summary: Despite his accomplishments, Grand Admiral Thrawn is still haunted by the xenophobia among his peers.





	

Laughter. Fine crystal and silver. Lavish velvet and brocade. Flawless, pressed uniforms. The most expensive food on Coruscant. These were the sights, sounds, and smells of a typical Imperial gala. At least, that’s what Grand Admiral Thrawn assumed. He avoided frivolous occasions like these, especially with the unrest in the galaxy. There were far more important things to do. So, why was he here, awkwardly standing on the sidelines of a banquet room and holding a glass of untouched wine?

Well, this particular event was for him, courtesy of the Emperor. Through the Grand Admiral’s fierce genius, unwavering determination, and valued leadership, the Empire had recently found and destroyed a key rebel stronghold. The victory couldn’t go uncelebrated. 

But, Thrawn knew that most of the guests were only there because the Emperor and Vizier Amedda were rumored to make an appearance. These lackeys would do anything for an opportunity to grovel, even if it meant stepping all over Thrawn’s glory. Sadly, it didn’t surprise him. Even after the years of sweat, blood, and tears dedicated to working his way through the ranks, breaking down barriers, and accomplishing things unseen in the history of the galaxy, he would always be an outsider.

No matter what he did, he was still met with patronizing comments and cold stares. Even now at a dinner party in his honor, a fair amount of people narrowed their eyes when they looked in his direction. A few gave curt nods. Some outright refused to shake his hand or call him by his title, opting for disingenuous smiles that barely concealed their distaste. 

Thrawn loathed himself for ruminating over such petty nonsense. As long as he was efficient at his job, it shouldn’t matter what the naysayers thought. He didn’t care. 

Or so he told himself. 

In truth, he cared deeply. His past experiences in the Empire filled him with deeply hidden shame and rage. He remembered his days as a lowly recruit when he had his head bashed in against the tile of the showers and woke up in a pool of his own blood with no one there to take him to the medical bay. Or when his comrades pulled him out of bed and kicked him until his ribs were broken. His mentors always turned a blind eye. Some even purposefully gave him lower marks than everyone else or accused him of cheating. He’d also never forget how many people referred to him as “it.” 

Thrawn downed his whole glass of wine, alarmed at his agitation. This wasn’t like him. He couldn’t let his mind get bogged down by useless memories. Those days were long gone. He was a respected figure in the Galactic Empire now. Even the Emperor admired his abilities. 

“Well, if it isn’t Admiral Thrawn himself!” Director Orson Krennic strolled over to Thrawn, his white cape billowing behind him. 

“It's Grand Admiral,” Thrawn said patiently. “How are you, director? I hear you’re making progress on your energy development project.” 

“Oh no, my apologies! How could I forget?” Krennic said. “We have our ups and downs in the research, but I can’t complain. Congratulations on your own success. Quite the accomplishment for someone like you.” 

Krennic raised his glass and gave a small smile, boldly studying Thrawn from head to toe. With that, he slipped back into the crowd to mingle. 

Thrawn grabbed another glass of wine and wandered over to Tarkin, Sloane, Konstantine, Pryce, and a handful of officers as they stood near a table piled high with every sort of food imaginable. When he decided to join their dull conversation about Coruscanti infrastructure, Tarkin looked slightly annoyed at his presence. The less seasoned Imperials gazed at the Chiss in curiosity. Thrawn just wished everyone would stop staring. Why did they have to look at him? He finished his second glass of wine and reached for another as a server passed by. 

“Are you well?” Tarkin asked, but he didn’t seem too interested in the answer. 

“Of course, governor,” Thrawn replied. “Any word on when the Emperor will arrive?”

“Soon, I imagine,” Tarkin said. 

Thrawn was starting to feel dizzy. The heat and noise in the room was too much. He set his drink aside and rubbed his temples. 

"I’ll be back in a moment,” Thrawn said to no one in particular, heading toward the door. 

When he stepped out into the cool corridor, he leaned against the wall and stared blankly into a large mirror on the opposite side. He frowned at the slender, blue-skinned, scarlet-eyed alien who was dressed in an impeccable white uniform with his impressive rank plate fixed to his breast.


End file.
